


A Place For Rest

by blackholehuman



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Funeral, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, at watford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackholehuman/pseuds/blackholehuman
Summary: Six months later, friends and relatives gather to remember Ebeneza.





	A Place For Rest

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to participate in the Carry On Countdown, two days late. I'm sorry that my first one has to be a bit sad.  
> Prompt: At Watford

**BAZ**

I’m here early, mostly because Fiona’s back in town this week, and she’s nothing if not punctual. I climb out of the front seat when she parks (she was too sad to make a comment about the forbidden front seat. Today, it seems, is not one for her usual humor). The dirt parking lot has been sprayed down with water, so as to not dirty anyone’s cars or Italian leather shoes, like mine.

Fiona has yet to actually get out of the car, so I go around to her side and open the door for her. Still, she doesn’t get out. I almost want to point out that her lovely Louis Vuitton black dress will wrinkle if she just sits there for any longer, but I don’t, because as I realized before, this is not the day for jokes. Even though it would only be half of a joke; it really might wrinkle.

“Come on,” I say softly instead. I reach out my hand. “We should go.”

“Did you know,” she says a bit airily, like she’s quite distant, even as she takes my hand and stands, “I don’t like this place much.”

I nod, understanding. “It was always the place that was taken from her.”

“It’s so sad,” Fiona continues as they begin to walk towards the gates and the grass beyond, “that after graduating myself, I’ve been here mostly for funerals.”

I was almost too young to remember my mother’s funeral; I faintly recall feeling strange that there was no casket, just an ornately decorated urn. I know Fiona cried silently the whole time, and that I felt really, really sick. Probably because it happened not too long after I was turned.

But this is different. Mother’s funeral didn’t scar me much as being part of the tragedy did, but now I’m going to have to watch over Fiona, to make sure she doesn’t lose it.

And Simon, too.

Besides Penny and Agatha, I think Ebb was probably one of his best friends.

Though I can’t really see the appeal, for myself, that is, I understand why he was drawn to her; she was motherly in reckless sort of way, selfless while still doing whatever she pleased, lived a simple life, lived _here_ in the only place Simon had ever been able to call home.

Ebb seemed to have felt the same way. Watford was her home; in death, it would be her place of rest.

After a long, tearful walk across the Great Lawn, I deposit Fiona in a chair reserved for her closest friends and family. I can see various blonde haired and blue eyed relatives scattered about- I can even discern Ebb’s parents, and I want to go offer my condolences, or at least comfort Fiona until the speeches begin- but. My phone chimes, and the tone tells me it’s Simon. He must be here. I’m to pick him up by the gate.

I don’t think much on my walk back. I’m in kind of a weird position, completely out of my league, because I never knew Ebb. Whenever I thought about her at all it was to make fun of Snow, or about how fucking terrible it was to be in a room with her bleeding body for hours when I was already so thirsty. I shouldn’t have been invited in the first place, but it would have been rude not to show up, but I did it for Fiona. For Simon, who came to my graduation, despite it all.

I’m in no way prepared for what I see at the gate. Penny, placing her hands on the handles to open it in an all black sari is not a surprise, nor is Simon in the black suit and tie that I leant him.

No, it’s the man standing behind both of them, wearing nicer clothes that I saw him in previously, looking absolutely devastated and not moving his head up at all.

My eyes snap to Simon, and Penny gets the gate open. I shove it closed.

“No,” I snarl.

Penny looks startled. Simon looks pissed. Nicodemus doesn’t even flinch.

“Don’t be like this,” Simon warns. “Not today. He’s her twin brother.”

My mouth turns to form a sneer without my conscious effort. “He’s a _vampire_.”

“So are you,” he raises his eyebrows at me.

Checking my peripherals to make sure we’re alone, and swallowing my temper, I ignore his statement. I may love him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t also the most irritating being on the planet. “My mother- he could have come forward, he could have told us sooner- and this might not have happened.”

“Come on Baz,” Penny joins in, sounding irritated. “I don’t think you meant it, but- this isn’t about you. This is about Ebb. And she would want him here.”

Clutching at a last ditch argument, I say, “He’s been stricken from the Book. It’s forbidden.”

“He can handle the consequences himself,” Penny says calmly, placing her hands on the handles once again.

This time, I step away.

When the door opens, Simon runs to me- practically tackles me with a hug, like he’s clinging to me for support, even after all the foul things I’ve just said. His unyielding affection actually makes me feel sorry.

“It’s okay,” he says into my shirt. “I prepared for much worse. I understand.”

I won’t apologize, then. I was only sorry if Simon felt ashamed of me, anyway.

The four of us trudge against the tall grass of the Great Lawn, mostly in silence. Our footsteps are heavy, making paths as we walk, and it’s slow progress. Simon holds my hand like a lost child and pointedly does _not_ look at the White Chapel.

“They asked me to speak,” Simon says eventually, just before we arrive at the chairs. He stops walking, and I stop too. Penny and Nicodemus walk on, Penny daring anyone to argue with her about his presence. I have no doubt that she would take any dissenter down in an argument or dual alike. They should be fine; and she’s right, anyway. It’s what Ebb would want.  

Squeezing his hand, I wait for him to continue. “But I’m so bad at words,” he says, rushed, anxious, and blustering. “I didn’t even write a speech, I just have a vague idea of what I want to say, and- I just- can’t do it, and I’m a disappointment to Ebb,” he stops, then spits out, “or her memory, anyway. I shouldn’t even be here- He wasn’t even going after her, it shouldn’t be her in that casket when he was looking for _me-_ ”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Simon freezes, so I take a moment to place my hands on either sides of his face, forcing him to look into my eyes. His blue eyes look a lot more like the ocean now that they’re wet. “You will tear yourself up if you play that game. We’ve talked about this. You can’t- _we_ can’t- reminisce over what could have been.”

“I know,” he laments, and cuts his eyes to the side. “But I hate it. It _could_ have been so much better.

“Oh, what,” I snap, because I’m tired of this game and I’m tired of the both of us being so bloody sad all the time, it’s exhausting, and I don’t think I can take it anymore. “You’d have me dead instead, would you, or Penny, or yourself, with the Humdrum and the Mage to roam free, stealing magic and destroying lives-”

“No,” Simon says, eyes widening. He’s obviously horrified. “It’s just- I meant-”

“You meant you aren’t happy. You meant that everything in your life right now- it’s not enough.” It hurts to finally say it out loud, even worse because it’s been building up inside my chest since the whole ordeal ended. This- row, of sorts, is something I’ve feared for a while now. Hating myself for asking, and hating myself in general, I lower my voice before speaking again. “Simon. Is- is it me?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again, then repeats the process several times. He looks pathetically like a fish, so I continue, “You can tell me. I-” I swallow, before continuing, “I would much rather you be happy, than, than _forcing_ this relationship to work. I know it can be a little much sometimes, I understand, _I’m_ a little much most of the time-”  
I don’t get to finish my sentence because Simon launches at me with such a ferocious kiss I lose my train entirely. We’re both breathless when he pulls away, and he leans his head on my shoulders as he holds me closer.

“I can’t believe I made you feel that way,” he admits, completely aghast. “When you- and Penny too, of course- have been the only thing to ground me for a long time. Sometimes I think I only carry on because I want to be as strong as you are, I want to be here to love you.”

“Simon-”

“I think I know what I’m going to say,” he realizes quickly, and slowly unfurls himself from my shoulder. My body misses his heat, but his hand slips easily into mine as he leads us to our seats next to Fiona. They both lean around me before the ceremony starts, swapping stories about Ebb, and I help by keeping my hand resting somewhere on Simon’s back at all times, and laughing when I think Fiona wants me to.

They sit up straight with tears in their eyes when the ceremony starts and Ebb’s mother gets up to speak, but the small, determined smiles on their faces lets me know they’ll both be alright.

That _everything_ will be okay.

**SIMON**

Forget the sadness of the funeral; standing up here on stage is awkward as _hell_.

It looks like everyone expects me to unfold a piece of paper from one of my pockets, as the two speakers before me did, but all I see when I look into the crowd is a bunch of faces that are familiar only in the sense that they have a vague resemblance to Ebb. Except for Penny, who is shocked (I didn’t tell her about this because I knew she would try to make me write and memorize something) and Baz (who gives me an encouraging nod).

I start to speak, willing myself not to bluster, and not to be scared _or_ sad.

“I grew up as a Normal. All those things that mages take for granted I grew up with as fairy tales- imagine my amazement when I found out that it was all real. I basically stepped into my own story the moment I found out that I could have all this at my fingertips as long as I had a wand to direct it. I think I was even more amazed, however, when I met Ebb; easily the most powerful magician in the United Kingdom, and all she wanted to do was take care of goats. I admired her for it; she didn’t care about all the things I was thrown into, the politics, the drama, the magic, or… or even the wars.” I swallow, hard.

“But I mostly admired the simple way she lived; taking care of the things and the people she loved.  And she did all of it- _all_ of it- because it made her happy. That’s all she wanted, it’s all she strived for. Her brand of happiness, no matter how strange others may have found it, was not an accident. Nor was it something she wished for. This happiness-” I throw my arms out in a wide gesture, towards the house she loved, the goats she doated on, and the audience, who all played a role in her life, “This happiness is something she designed herself.”

A slight murmur of content agreement goes through the people seated in front of him. His brain cheers for himself silently, and he sees Penny giving him a thumbs up.

“Someone once told me that everything is a story. Well, as is a tale, so is life: it doesn’t matter how long it lasted, all that matters is how deeply _good_ it was. And Ebb, as we all know, lived a full, happy life, one that could only be described as good.”

I stand there for a moment, searching the audience’s facial expressions. Everyone seems to be teary eyed and oddly hopeful, so I think I’ve done an okay job. I look at Baz, and am mildly surprised to see him wiping away tears.

When he looks up again, he gives me a small smile, one that turns his sharp features soft and makes my heart melt. Penny stands to hug me on my way back to my seat, and I accept it gratefully. Upon sitting down, Fiona pats my knee, which is a small victory in and of itself.

Baz kisses the mole on my neck, the one he treats as a target. I smile.

I’m done with being sad.

The time has come for Baz and I to design our own happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!  
> If you're a fan of my writing, I have other Snowbaz works that I'm quite proud of, you can check them out here on AO3 or tumblr.  
> Tumblr:  
> personal- celestialconspiracy  
> snowbaz- carryonbasiltonpitch  
> fanfiction- blackholehuman


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